Anniversary blues
by What'dIMiss
Summary: It's the anniversary of John Lauren's death. Alexander realizes something about Philip. Another Hamilton One-shot, sad, suggested Lams and obvious Hamliza. Alex actually took a break, so the affair with Maria never happened. Rated T b/c. Sorry the title sucks.


**A/N: This started with the idea of Alexander realizing that Philip looked exactly like John Laurens, his dead lover, then it somehow manifested into this. Everyone looks like they do in the musical, otherwise it wouldn't make sense. Not historically accurate(duh), except for the date and cause of Lauren's death.**

 **This took me about an hour to write, give or take a few minutes. I wrote this on Christmas Eve, but wanted to wait to post it... I hope you find it in your heart to enjoy reading it.**

1791.

New York City.

It was a seemingly pleasant day in the Hamilton household. Nine-year old Philip was writing poetry in his notebook. Seven year old Angie was playing with her dolls. Eliza was reading in hers and Alexander's bedroom. Alexander was at his desk, writing furiously fast, as usual. He was glad to be home instead of at his office. He could watch his young children, and try not think about what happened that day nine years before. It was August 22nd, the day his best friend John Laurens died, in a gunfight with retreating British soldiers. The war was already over when it happened. He remembered sending him that letter…. His letter confessing his love for Laurens. But after receiving the note from John's father…...

No. It's too painful for him to even try to describe the thought of it. Alexander felt tears accumulating in his eyes, but he wiped them away. He put his pen down, drawing the attention of his two children, who had grown used to hearing the sound of their father's pen across paper.

"Father, what's wrong?" Philip asked. He always seemed to know when something was amiss.

"N-noting, son. Your dad just needs to take a break. I'm going to get some air." Alexander couldn't look his eldest son in the eye as he said it.

"Oh. Ok." Philip started to write again…

"Can I come with you?" Philip wanted to help his father. He could tell something was bothering him.

"No, Philip, I need to be alone for a little while…..," Alexander replied with a sadness in his voice.

"Ok, I'm here if you need me," Philip replied kindly with a smile. A smile that

completely undid Alexander every time he saw it. A smile so like John's…..

Shoving it away from the forefront of his thoughts, Alexander stepped out into the warm embrace of late August. He walked down the street to a park, and sat on a bench.

His sadness finally resurfaced, and he began to cry. He cried into his jacket, an expensive brown piece made for him by Hercules Mulligan soon after the war. He could imagine John laughing at him for ruining such an expensive jacket, when he had come to America with practically nothing. He chuckled to himself at that thought, then continued to cry.

"Alexander?" "Father?" "Is that you?" he heard a voice, no two voices, the voices of his wife Eliza, and Philip.

He looked up at his wife and son, his eyes red from crying. "Yeah, it's me." They sat down next to him, and hugged him on both sides. He hugged them back in return.

"How did you know where I was? I didn't tell you where I was going."

"I told Mom you left the house, and she asked where you went, and I said down the street, so we both left to find you here, crying," Philip explained. Then,neither a concerned tone in his voice, he asked, "Why were you crying, Father?"

"Oh, Philip,I'll tell you because you asked, and I won't hear the end of it if I don't say it, so I will." Alexander took a deep breath. "I lost a very good friend of mine on this date nine years ago."

"Oh. I didn't know you had other friends besides that French guy and the president."

"Yes, his name was John Laurens." Alexander started to tear up again. "He was my best friend. We met during the war, but he died soon after it ended."

"He was the best man at our wedding," added Eliza.

"What did he look like?" Philip wanted to know everything about this man, whom he'd never met nor ever would meet, who was so important to his father.

"He looked like…" Alexander paused and finally looked over at his son. His curly brown hair so unlike his own,his golden eyes. Now that he thought about it, Philip resembled John in more ways than his smile…

Philip couldn't stand the pause "Who? Who, Father, who?" he inquired.

More silence. Finally, Alexander whispered, "He looked like you,"

 **Read and review. It is appreciated.**


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